by Shealy James
“Open the door, sweetheart.” I hated that my words came out with an edge, with a warning, but I couldn’t take her crying alone in there. I needed to make it right. It was my job to fix this.
“Go away, Michael.” She didn’t sound sad. She sounded…angry? With me?
Instead of going away like she asked, I grabbed the key from the top of the doorframe. Opening the door to find Sarah crumpled on the floor wiping her eyes with a tissue about killed me. She looked like a child curled up and crying like that. All I wanted to do was grab her and make her feel better, but knowing how fragile she was feeling made me tread carefully.
“I tell you to go away, so you open the door?”
“You’re crying.” Nice Michael. I’m an idiot.
“I’m upset.”
“Yes, I realize that. How can I fix it?”
“Not barging in the bathroom after I tell you to go away might be a good start.”
“Sarah, I’m not going to let you sit in here all night and cry.”
“I’ve been in here for three seconds, Michael. I’d hardly call that all night.”
I looked at my watch. “Seven minutes and thirteen seconds, actually.”
“You timed me?” Her eyes widened with disbelief.
“He times everything. It was his job,” Moretti said from the door before taking a bite from the sandwich in his hand. “You guys gonna come eat?”
“Give us a minute, Moretti.” And I thought I was insensitive…
“Okay.” His eyes flicked back and forth between Sarah and me for a second before he frowned and walked away.
“See how he walked away. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Now go!”
“You’re not pissed because I came in the bathroom. Tell me why you’re upset.”
I watched as her face went from a heated expression to one of resignation. Then her head dropped, so her forehead was resting on her curled up knees. “I’m not upset. I’m humiliated.”
“What? Why?”
She raised her head to scoff at me. “My ex is potentially a sociopath and a murderer, and you are wondering why I’m humiliated?” Then she went in for the kill. “Tell me, Michael, what the hell do you want from me because I’m about all tapped out.”
“Sarah,” I sighed. That was all it took for her to start crying again. Without a moment’s hesitation, I pulled her in my lap and whispered, “Don’t you know, Sarah? I want to be everything for you, and I want everything from you. I don’t even know how to begin, but somehow you’ve made me want to be the guy who holds you, the guy who rescues you, the guy who goes to sleep with you only to wake up next to you the next morning. You know exactly what you’re getting with me, and it might not be pretty, but it’s real and incredible and a little scary.”
“Don’t do that,” she cried into my shoulder.
“What?”
“Don’t go sayin’ all the right things.”
This made me laugh. “I’m just telling you the truth. I figured now’s as good a time as any.”
She shifted on my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. “They say relationships that begin from intense situations never work out. Are you going to end up in the regret pile, Michael?”
“I hope not, but I also don’t think you should take relationship advice from Sandra Bullock movies.”
“Hey!” she said with an edge of seriousness. “Speed was an important study of how people respond to immediate trauma.”
“Yeah? And I’m Keanu Reeves.”
“Oh, honey. You’re far better lookin’ than Keanu Reeves. You’re taller and more muscular. Let’s not even talk about your natural tan that makes me want to spend the next three days getting sprayed to match you. You have way better hair, and this,” she rubbed my unshaven jaw, “I find this very sexy.”
“If you want to leave this bathroom anytime soon, you should stop.” I watched as her eyes flared in response. Knowing the power she held over me turned her on, and suddenly her tear-stained cheeks were flushed with heat.
“Who said I wanted to leave this bathroom at all?”
Right when she finally leaned in to kiss me, a knock at the door pulled her back. “You all right?” Lana asked Sarah.
“Gettin’ there,” Sarah told her then shot me a small smile that knocked me right in the chest.
“Okay, you two. Come eat so you can tell us the rest of what you found out. I want this bastard locked up. Once that happens you can do whatever the hell you want on the floor of your bathroom,” Lana announced then left us.
“Oh, fine,” Sarah groaned and rolled her eyes.
I helped her climb off me and let her think she helped me up from the ground. My body was a little stiff and uncomfortable, in more ways than one, but the pain in my back was a constant reminder that I wasn’t the man I once was. Even if I wasn’t that man, I couldn’t seem to let Sarah go. I hated the idea that things with Sarah might not work out, but the idea of saying goodbye to Sarah was far worse.
“I’ll be out in a minute. I want to clean up first,” she said while wiping the smeared make-up from under her eyes.
“You look beautiful,” I told her honestly and gave her a quick kiss.
She looked at me like she didn’t believe me then said, “No, I don’t. I’m an emotional mess hanging on by a thread, and it’s okay for now. I just needed a minute to myself. Now, go. Tell them what Captain Thompson said. I won’t be any help anyway. I tuned most of it out after he told us Dr. Wright’s sister had been treating Jameson.”
“I’ll wait to tell them the rest when you’re out there. You need to hear the rest.” I pressed a kiss to her hair and headed back out to find Moretti and Lana setting up what looked like a command station in my kitchen. Great.
Sarah
After Michael finished filling Lana, Tony, and me in on everything I should have heard at the police station, they spent the next few hours finding out everything they could on Jameson Carmichael. They pulled newspaper articles while Michael called a friend from their unit who now worked for the FBI. I sat in awe of what they were able to do in such a short time. As they continued to act like my own personal security team and discuss what to do to keep me safe, I realized I was going to have to call my brother. I was in trouble, and the last thing I needed was for our twindar to set him off. If you weren’t a twin, it might seem like a crazy thing, but our twindar was a real thing. Sometimes I knew he was having a bad day because something happened in my day that made me think of him. My brain didn’t let it go until I talked to him. Sure enough, every time this happened, he’d had a crummy day. It was the strangest thing, but we chalked it up to being womb-mates.
“I need to call my brother,” I told Michael and moved to grab my phone from my bag, which was by the front door.
Michael stopped me with a hand and a look of concern. “You gave your phone to Captain Thompson, so he could look into the texts and emails. You left it with him.”
Strange how I didn’t remember any of that, but then again, I didn’t remember much after reading the words Attending Psychiatrist Linda Wright, Ph.D..
“Oh.” That was all I had to say about that.
“Use my phone. I programmed your brother’s number in there. He’s probably been trying to reach you anyway.”
I was about to hit send when Michael’s phone started vibrating in my hand. I handed it back to him, and he frowned when he looked at the screen. “Hello?” he answered, suspicious of the number.
He listened for a few moments before his eyes widened and turned to me. “I understand. Thank you for the call.”
I waited for him to explain. My energy was dwindling, but I feared I wouldn’t ever be able to sleep again while wondering what was next to come. Michael stood and started pacing the length of the kitchen. “Are you going to tell me what that’s all about?” I waved my finger back and forth indicating the path he had just followed across the kitchen and back.
“It was Captain Thompson. They sent officers to his apartme
nt with a warrant. It looks like he hasn’t been there in weeks. They’re looking for him, at least. He said they spoke with you professor. He claimed he hasn’t seen Jameson in a couple of weeks. Something doesn’t sit right with this. I feel like we’re missing some information.”
“Like what? We looked at the file. I may not have registered much, but surely you did. You’re trained for this kind of stuff, aren’t you?”
He stopped and thought for a moment. “I wonder if he’s hiding out upstate or if his parents had another property.”
“Wouldn’t the police know that, though?”
“Yeah, but once they served him the order of protection, he would have known to get out of town. He knows the police would recognize his name and would probably do anything to avoid arrest. Why would he be sending the flowers and messages? Did they stop when you gave Captain Thompson your phone? Can you check your email? See if there is anything there. Think, Sarah. Where else could he hide out, Sarah?” Michael was like a dog with a bone. His rapid firing of questions made me regret challenging him about looking through the file.
“I think you’re giving him too much credit. He doesn’t have some grand plan. He’s only trying to scare me, make me regret hurting him even though he hurt me first.”
“How would you know? You thought he was charming up until he backhanded you across the face.”
I gasped then immediately froze with my mouth wide open. I couldn’t believe this man, who only hours before had held me on the bathroom floor while I cried, just accused me of being a stupid, naïve girl. It might have been true, but I didn’t need him to remind me of how foolish I had been.
Michael rubbed his face then bit out, “I’m sorry, Sarah. I didn’t mean that.” The apology sounded forced, but I believe he didn’t mean to say it aloud. That didn’t mean he wasn’t actually thinking it.
“It’s fine. If you don’t mind, I’d like to borrow your phone to call my brother.”
He passed me his phone looking more apologetic now, but his apology wasn’t what I needed right then. I stepped out of the room into the spare bedroom I had slept in the first time I was at Michael’s.
“What’s wrong?” Seth answered gruffly.
“Seth!” I wailed, letting loose all my fear and frustration on my brother.
“Sarah? Sarah, what’s wrong?” He sounded hysterical. “Sarah, talk to me.”
The words rushed out of me. I wasn’t even sure they made sense, but it was like my brain was on hyperdrive. I couldn’t tell him everything fast enough. “He’s messed up, Seth. We spoke with the police. They suspected he murdered his parents twenty something years ago but could never prove it. After he had left the mental hospital, my professor’s sister treated him. That’s how he got into school! It all makes sense. Now the police can’t find him. They think he might try to hurt me.”
“You’re coming home, Sarah. I know that Ph.D. is important to you, but your safety matters more. You can transfer to Auburn, or God forbid, Alabama. The school isn’t important.”
“No Seth,” I said as firmly as I could, given my emotional state. “I’m not leaving.” My refusal didn’t have quite the same punch as it did a few weeks ago.
“You’re just going to sit there and wait for this psycho to find you? Sarah, really?”
“The police will find him, Seth. I’m staying at Michael’s tonight, and tomorrow Jameson will be locked away.”
“Yeah. Right.” Even I wasn’t sure I believed it. And even if it were true, what would I do about Dr. Wright? He was known for his work with post-war soldiers, but what about boys whose parents were murdered. The only thing I was certain of at this point was that Dr. Wright helped Jameson earn a place at Colombia. But at what cost?
Seth and I went round and round for a few more minutes before I finally hung up with him. I was tired and the day had been stressful. I rested my head for a moment as I tried to process everything that was happening. I wasn’t much of a thinker; that was Maggie’s territory. I was a doer. I saw a problem; I took care it. I followed my instincts most of the time. My insecurities had started interfering with my gut only recently and now look what happened. Nothing frustrated me more than that.
I woke up when my I felt my body lifted from the bed. I was sure it was Jameson coming to get me, so I quickly started to fight my attacker. “Whoa. Ow! Sarah, it’s me. Shhh…calm down. It’s me.” I opened my eyes when I recognized Michael’s voice. “You fell asleep. I was moving you to my bed. Even if you’re mad at me, I want you next to me.” And swoon. In my delirious state, his words made me even more defenseless against him and against my growing affection for him. My heart fluttered. My stomach flipped. I was safe in the arms of the man I could quite possibly be falling for.
Falling for…hmm. Heard that one before, huh?
Yeah, me too.
Seventeen
Michael
I had apologized. I held her all night, and I woke her up when her nightmare started. I quietly reminded her that she was safe until she calmed down enough to fall into a restful sleep. I kissed her every time she moved or whimpered. It was a night of sweet torture. While I loved being the man who held her through the night, knowing that motherfucker was out there was making me homicidal. I wanted to pack up the guys and hunt Jameson fucking Carmichael down.
I wouldn’t have been able to sleep even if Sarah weren’t in need of my attention. Familiar feelings from past missions were keeping me awake. Part of me wanted to get the show on the road. I wanted to handle Jameson as if he were a target. My team was probably better suited to handle a guy like him than the cops anyway. Even thinking about an assignment had the anxiety and fear rising in my throat, and it was the fear that truly kept me awake. Only one of us could have nightmares at a time.
Sarah stirred early the next morning. The sun was barely awake, and I felt exhausted from running scenarios in my head all night. She rolled over to face me and pressed her forehead to my chest. “I’m sorry about last night,” she said.
I wasn’t sure what she felt she needed to apologize for so I took it as a cue that perhaps I needed to apologize. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I should be the one apologizing. I’m sorry for upsetting you and saying stupid shit.”
She let out some kind of adorable noise then added, “Heads up. I’m a female navigating a stressful situation. Everything is going to upset me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said gently as I tucked the hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear. I didn’t want anything blocking my view of her big blue eyes.
My effort was futile when she climbed on top of me, perfectly aligning our bodies. I was trying to be respectful, but this position made me think of one thing, and one thing only.
“Can we focus on you for a day?” she asked sounding light. How could I say no to that when she sounds like herself again?
“I guess.”
“Why won’t you ride in cars?” I didn’t realize that was what she meant by focusing on me. I flopped back against the pillows and let out a ragged breath.
“I don’t know. Flashbacks is the clinical term, but I feel like I’m back in the Humvee watching a friend bleed out, listening to Phil shout that he couldn’t move, waiting to hear Alaska’s voice from beside me, listening to Moretti yell into the radio that we’d been hit, and waiting for Crow, our medic, to help us somehow. I smell the burning flesh; hear the high pitch ringing in my ears. It’s stifling.”
“Hmm…”
“Let it be, Sarah,” I warned.
She looked surprised by my tone. “I’m not trying to fix you or counsel you, Michael. I’m trying to figure you out. I’ve been wondering what you do when it rains? I know you can ride a train. Can you fly in a plane?” That was what she wanted to know?
“I don’t know, Dr. Seuss. I haven’t tried since they flew us home from Germany. I guess so because they look so different, feel different. All of my flashbacks, all of my nightmares, occur inside the Humvee.” My honesty surprised
even me.
“Sorry,” she said as if she regretted asking questions. “I don’t mean to pry. The women in my family are the meddlesome kind. I always hated that they expect me to share everything with them, but here I am, doing the same darn thing.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll answer your questions.” Hadn’t I agreed to do just that when I first met her? I trusted this girl. I trusted that she truly cared about me, that she wouldn’t use the information against me. Most importantly, I trusted that she would understand. “If I’m in Jersey when it’s storming, I stay at Phil’s. I like the city, so I keep an apartment here, but I like the track, too. I can work on the inside of cars as long as all the doors are open, but it wasn’t like that at first. I really had to talk myself into even leaning into the driver’s seat the first few times. Joe and Randy do most of the interior work. I’m an engine and body guy.”
“Yeah, you are,” she teasingly leaned, so she could leer at my body.
“You only want me for my body, huh?”
“No. I like your face, too.”
“Do you now?”
“Mmhmm…”
“You know what I like?” I asked as my hands skimmed down her back.
“Hmm?”
“This,” I said as my hands palmed her ass. “And these,” I whispered as I gripped her thighs and pulled them apart so they would wrap around me. “And this.” I trailed my fingers up her spine. “Don’t forget this.” I twisted my fingers into her blonde hair and tugged it back gently so I could kiss her sweet lips. “And these,” I said just before our lips touched.
“That list is pretty non-specific. It sounds like you just like me for my body as well, Sergeant.”
“And I’m just getting started.”
Sarah
Some kind of ringing noise was playing in the distance. It kept going and going and going, and all I wanted to do was make it stop. I was sure that noise would have given me nightmares if my life hadn’t already. I climbed out of my sleepy state enough to recognize it was a phone ringing. Remembering mine was with the police, I realized it was Michael’s phone that I heard. When it stopped, it started right back up. It was making me want to scream.